Fool
by Homicide-Inside
Summary: It’s been 35 years since Donatello left his brothers. And now, he’s come back for a visit: older, smarter and wiser. But no one to come home to. Rated T for the sorrow. And I don't think kids would like that.


**Fool**

**TMNT Fan Fiction**

**Centers: **Older Donatello, Same As It Never Was Dimension

**Summary: **It's been 35 years since Donatello left his brothers. And now, he's come back for a visit, older, smarter and wiser. But no one to come home to.

**Disclaimers: **I don't own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. If I did, there would actually be _blood_ and_ expletives_. And they would open their eyes to the beauty of homosexuality and incest. (Kidding on that last part.) But seriously, Mikey/Don and Raph/Leo is layered cake joy. Cheesecake for that matter. And no one can resist cheesecake.

**Author's Notes: **I just wanted to try writing the Older Donatello's story. Enough said.

* * *

The world after Shredder's reign. Cluttered and silent…yet peaceful. Everyone is pulling their lives together for a new beginning. The first days of their lives. All gratitude and praise go to one man and his brothers. _Donatello_, the savior of the world.

"Donatello, eh?" mutters he, clothed in a brown cloak, concealing the white lab coat and black pants he had on. "Interesting."

He observes the city through his monocle. New York, still in ruins from the recent defeat of Shredder. It'll reach a century for this all to be cleaned up. Clearly, slack isn't allowed as an option in anyone's choice of hobbies as of these days.

"I would have fancied saying 'Home Sweet Home', but perhaps I'd have to drop that, seeing this sad idea of The Big Apple. How depressing."

The wind begins to blow; the flaps of his violet bandanna flying about. "I best be off then."

Donatello casually walks around the city, time not being of the essence. Just walking along the streets, glancing time to time to look at the residents building and cleaning their destroyed homes, or at the dilapidated buildings themselves.

A few moments later, he reached what used to be his home. Silent, destroyed and empty. Nothing was left but the rubble.

"The lair's such a mess…" He says. "Nothing to do here." That is, except to reminisce. He tries guessing where was where and thinks of the memories that remained unforgotten.

His lab used to be there, or rather, his workspace. Too minute to be called a 'Lab'. He remembers when Michelangelo used to annoy him, asking what he was doing. Of course, curiosity is an important factor of any being, but he knew very well that about more than a half of his answers to that little question went in one ear, and through the other.

"Like he had any, anyway." He told himself.

He recalls the television he built in for all of them, and then wonders who could have fixed it when it didn't work without him there. Did they even use it again?

And for a moment there, he missed them.

…Yeah, right.

"The past is the past, and it will stay in the past. I left with that in mind, and I'm never taking it back."

He nonchalantly leaves the home he once had.

Donatello continues his walk, no destination in mind. Just randomly making turns and heading straight. And as if it had been decided by the heavens above, he lands in the park his father and his father's master used to always visit before. It wasn't much of a park anymore, though. Just a place where a small burial is located, safe and in peace.

He stares upon a thin plank with the name 'Splinter' etched on. The walking stick is at its side, but not on its own. Surrounding the wood are a nunchuck, just one and neatly placed at its side; a pair of Sais, laid in front of the nunchuck; and a katana, standing right beside the master's walking stick.

And it was quiet. So quiet.

"Dead Fools," Donatello spits.

"Donatello?" Not a very familiar voice, or perhaps he has just not heard it for a long time. And so he turns to face her, and before him stands a middle-aged woman carrying a bouquet of flowers intended for the grave.

"Ms. April O'Neil, I presume." He tells her. "It's been long."

"No, not really." She replies, quite offended that she has been forgotten. "Although you aren't the savior, so I guess it has been."

"Ah, this savior of the world matter. I didn't quite understand that, and so I thought I could visit and find the answer."

"I'd care to explain." (She places the bouquet at the grave.) "Along with it would be what has happened to all of us after your disappearance."

"Over hot tea, please."

They head to where April has been staying ever since she and the others decided to hide and plan the rebellion to shredder's dictation. And there, she explained everything as clearly as she could.

Donatello sips his cup of tea. "So to say it simply, my father gave up his life to save my 3 brothers; Mr. Casey Jones died from a failed attempt of my brothers to beat the Shredder which also cost half of Michelangelo's left arm, both Leonardo's eyes and Raphael's left eye; my brothers Leonardo and Raphael parted in separate ways for good due to the upsetting death of my father; and somehow I—the before I, that is—arrived here due to a Dimension Portal, reunited my brothers and saved the world."

April nods.

"Hm…quite a series of events. Understandable. But—"(Another sip of tea.) "—I am not to weigh any guilt nor regrets. These may not have happened if I hadn't left, but what can we do? I did."

"I did not say you should." April tells him. "Anyway, what have you been doing after abandoning us?"

"Ah, abandon is such an intense word, Ms. April. I prefer to call it 'voluntary leave'. But anyway, a day after my leave, I found a nice, solitary and undisturbed place to stay. It had quite a lot of space and no distractions from anything. No one could locate me there. And so I began to work; Work on a machine similar to the Triceraton Ships. There is no place for a runaway Mutant Turtle in Earth. After a few months of constant building, I took off. I found a place far away from this planet. Intellectual, the creatures were. And such wonderful scientific designs. I felt like I finally belonged. There, I became much smarter and wiser. And soon, my talents were noticed. In just a matter of years, I became known to most creatures in that world. My fame gradually expanded to other neighboring worlds. They could not resist having me over for a visit. I was continuously moving from one world to the other. I became the most successful being out there. No brothers to hold me back. No idiotic humor, no useless enjoyment. I am better off, you see." He puts his empty tea cup down on the table.

"You have…grown, haven't you? Changed…" April muses.

"It's been a good 35 years." He replies.

"Not for us, no."

"Well, you have a bright future anyway. All because of before-me."

"Yes. Thank you, even though you aren't him. Well, you _are_ him, but you aren't _him_."

"Mm." He rises off his seat. "I best be off. You didn't leave anything out, is that right?"

"Ahh—I believe I did. I forgot to mention that Mikey…ever since you left, he never smiled and never told a joke again. We were all worried about him, but he refused to talk. He had this hatred towards you for abandoning them. Leaving without a goodbye."

Donatello chuckles. "Without a goodbye? How immature." He picks up his brown cloak.

"He hated you…but every night, Leo, Raph and Master Splinter could hear him crying. Crying…because of you."

He let silence seep in. He averts his eyes and says, "It is for the best. Thank you for the tea, Ms. April."

He leaves.

"Goodbye, Donny." She whispers.

Immaturity annoys those who aren't. But the aforementioned of his brother was not the case. It was his misery.

"Silly brother." He mutters. "Your melancholy did no good to you. All those who are miserable are fools."

He stops in front of a shop window and stares at his reflection. Taller. Older. His violet bandanna on, his monocle to support his right eye's sight, a white lab coat and black pants. A straight uncaring face.

A tear rolls down.

"…_Fool._"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Poor miserable Older Donny. Reviews are nice. :D


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